Hello,
I'm here again.
Bare, or trying to be.
I dont know what I'm about to write, I'm just..
See I've been in multiple dilemmas since so long, my biggest dilemma is how to acknowledge them.
Where the fuck
should I start?
I started therapy since a few months and I kinda started dumping stuff there. Honestly before everything I thought I was fine but ever since going there I feel attacked. I mean, is it supposed to be like this?
What do I even tell this guy?
I mean I feel too privileged to even be there, sitting in front of him, paying him per hour if not less.
He's obligated to tell me stuff. I don't know, I dont know man. There's an ache in my chest, my chest feels too heavy, I cant breathe,
I cant breathe
I cant.
Ever since, you know...stuff, I developed this defence mechanism that I wont even acknowledge my feelings. Like, I try to be "self aware" and try to act cool to talk about stuff but at the same time I talk about it, I dismiss it in my head. Like a check list, like my problem or dilemma has been solved just acknowledging its existence.. but I never actual allow myself to feel it or bow down. In my head, I'm always okay, because I kinda am?, but at the same time not but kinda am but ...
you see my problem?
I cant acknowledge my feelings, my problems because I feel too privelaged to even feel them.
I am, I've done nothing wrong but
ugh
extremes
I'm always at extremes.
It's like I stuck at two different places, poles, opposites and I'm being pulled,
no, ripped apart by the irony.
God.
Pride.
Pride is a funny thing. No? You have it, you always have it, but if you're decent enough, you shame yourself for having it. But you pride yourself on that shame.
Irony.
Everything is an irony.
I can never seem to stop finding ironies.
Ironies in people, thing, lovers, places.
I'm sinking into the ocean, like an anchor without anything to pull it back. No worries, never liked chains anyways. I'm drowning into the deep ends, softly, slowly, quietly. Nobody knows it, nobody will ever know, that I'm stuck miles underneath the ocean, breathless, pale and quiet.
Somebody else is here. Somebody reckless, somebody helpless, somebody quiet, somebody noisy in the wrong ways. I can't wake her up, she's always sleeping and I'm always drowning.
Help her. I love her, but
I'm here again.
Bare, or trying to be.
I dont know what I'm about to write, I'm just..
See I've been in multiple dilemmas since so long, my biggest dilemma is how to acknowledge them.
Where the fuck
should I start?
I started therapy since a few months and I kinda started dumping stuff there. Honestly before everything I thought I was fine but ever since going there I feel attacked. I mean, is it supposed to be like this?
What do I even tell this guy?
I mean I feel too privileged to even be there, sitting in front of him, paying him per hour if not less.
He's obligated to tell me stuff. I don't know, I dont know man. There's an ache in my chest, my chest feels too heavy, I cant breathe,
I cant breathe
I cant.
Ever since, you know...stuff, I developed this defence mechanism that I wont even acknowledge my feelings. Like, I try to be "self aware" and try to act cool to talk about stuff but at the same time I talk about it, I dismiss it in my head. Like a check list, like my problem or dilemma has been solved just acknowledging its existence.. but I never actual allow myself to feel it or bow down. In my head, I'm always okay, because I kinda am?, but at the same time not but kinda am but ...
you see my problem?
I cant acknowledge my feelings, my problems because I feel too privelaged to even feel them.
I am, I've done nothing wrong but
ugh
extremes
I'm always at extremes.
It's like I stuck at two different places, poles, opposites and I'm being pulled,
no, ripped apart by the irony.
God.
Pride.
Pride is a funny thing. No? You have it, you always have it, but if you're decent enough, you shame yourself for having it. But you pride yourself on that shame.
Irony.
Everything is an irony.
I can never seem to stop finding ironies.
Ironies in people, thing, lovers, places.
I'm sinking into the ocean, like an anchor without anything to pull it back. No worries, never liked chains anyways. I'm drowning into the deep ends, softly, slowly, quietly. Nobody knows it, nobody will ever know, that I'm stuck miles underneath the ocean, breathless, pale and quiet.
Somebody else is here. Somebody reckless, somebody helpless, somebody quiet, somebody noisy in the wrong ways. I can't wake her up, she's always sleeping and I'm always drowning.
Help her. I love her, but
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